The Sins of The Father
by SFGrl
Summary: As his future begins to take shape, Chandler's past comes back to haunt him... {complete}
1. The Arrival

The Set Up: Monica & Rachel live together. Joey & Chandler live together. Ross & Phoebe live alone.  
Monica and Chandler have been dating for about six months or so, and everyone knows. Ross and Rachel are not dating.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The Sins of The Father  
  
Chapter One~The Arrival  
  
It wasn't an unusual day. In fact, one could say that it was a very ordinary day. The sun was shining, the birds were--well, there aren't many birds flying around New York City chirping, so, uh, the pigeons were crapping all over the sidewalk, and Chandler Bing was walking home from work, whistling off-key. He had managed to waste most of the day away, surfing the internet porn sites. It sometimes astounded him that he was getting paid so much for doing next to nothing. He bounced up the steps to his apartment, and walked in, dropping his nearly-empty briefcase on the kitchen counter, and pulled off his jacket and tie.  
  
"Joey?" Chandler called out, hoping that his longtime roommate and best friend was home, so that they could engage in another fierce game of foosball. When he got no reply, Chandler sighed, and grabbed a bottle of beer from the refridgerator. He twisted off the top, and gulped down half the bottle, before heading into his bedroom to change into jeans and a Knicks t-shirt. When he re-emerged from his bedroom, he decided to see what his girlfriend was up to.  
  
As he made his way across the hall, Chandler smiled to himself. He wasn't sure how he had managed to get so lucky. Monica was everything he ever wanted, but never thought he could have. She was smart, successful, strong, and the most beautiful creature he'd ever layed eyes on. He opened the door to her apartment, and was thrilled to see that she was sitting on her sofa, alone.  
  
"Hey beautiful," he said cheerfully. When she didn't respond, he tried again. "Mon?"  
  
"Oh, hey honey," Monica seemed startled by Chandler's sudden presence, and that unnerved Chandler a bit.  
  
"Sweetie, are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm just...Chandler, I think we need to talk."  
  
We need to talk. Chandler had been dreading those four words since the day he and Monica had started dating. It could only mean one thing, and that one thing scared the bejesus out of him. He didn't want to live, if he couldn't love her. This wasn't fair.  
  
"Um, okay..." Chandler sat down stiffly, and tried to prepare himself for what was to come.  
  
"Okay, um--God, I don't know how to tell you this, I really don't. See, the thing is...um, well--"  
  
"You don't love me. You think that we'd be better off as friends, right?"  
  
"What? No. Did you think I was trying to break up with you?"  
  
"Well--aren't you?"  
  
"No. Chandler, I love you. But I think that what I am about to tell you may freak you out. So, okay, I am just gonna say it--I'm pregnant."  
  
Pregnant. Monica was right, Chandler was freaking out. But not for the reasons that she was probably thinking. Chandler tried his best to hide his panic, and was even able to smile.  
  
"How, um, how far along are you?"  
  
"One month. Well, actually, six weeks. Chandler, I'm not expecting marriage or anything. You can be as involved as you want to be. No pressure, I swear."  
  
Chandler nodded, but he wasn't really listening. The last thing he wanted was to be a father. He knew that he would just screw the kid up, or worse... Chandler didn't want to think about it. He couldn't. He wanted to stay with Monica, but there was no way he could be this kid's father. He had to make a choice.  
  
That night, as Monica lay in his arms, sound asleep, Chandler lay awake, staring blankly at the ceiling. He was completely torn. He looked over at the alarm clock, and realized that sleep was not going to come tonight. He slipped out of bed, and padded back over to his apartment. He knew that it would be better if he thought about all of this alone. Joey still wasn't home. He was probably on another date. Chandler sat down at the kitchen counter, and stared at the white formica, as though it would magically give him the answer to his problem. Problems, plural. He sighed heavily, and then, in his peripheral vision, saw the red light on his answering maching blinking. He shrugged, and his the play button, only half-listening to Joey's message about the "hottie" he'd picked up. The machine beeped again, and a woman's voice came on the line. Chandler only consciously heard a few words the woman was saying, but the one's he did hear made him nausious. The blood drained from his face as her words echoed in his head over and over again. Father...New York...tomorrow.  
He felt beads of sweat form on his brow, and his eyes were stinging. A single, fat tear made it's way down his face, as his brain opened up, and began filtering through the memories of a life that he had repressed for twenty years.  
  
***  
  
Monica layed alone in her bedroom, trying desperately to decypher Chandler's strange behaviour. She had honestly expected him to flip, to say something stupid, and to run out screaming. He had done none of those things. He had simply sat there, trying to be happy, but Monica could see that he was scared. It wasn't the type of fear that she was feeling. The strange anxiousness of being a parent for the first time. With Chandler, there was something else, she just couldn't put her finger on it. It unnerved her, the idea that she couldn't read what he was thinking just by looking at him. She knew him better than he knew himself.  
  
Didn't she?  
  
***  
  
~24 Hours Later~  
  
It was a week before Christmas, and Daniel was tasting freedom for the first time in twenty years. He wandered the streets of New York, taking in the beauty of the holiday lights and the crispness of the winter air. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, and smiled. He was looking forward to the visit. He stopped a passerby, and smiling warmly, asked for directions to 14th Avenue.  
  
It only took him twenty minutes to get to 14th, so he decided to take a short walk before heading to the apartment. He wasn't quite ready. His mind wandered back to the day his family was taken from him. Never again, he vowed.  
  
Never again.  
  
***  
  
Chandler sat at his desk, not wanting to go home, but not really sure what he should do. He closed his eyes, trying to will away his problems. Was it an odd coincidence that his father had showed up around the same time Monica got pregnant? He realized that he would have to tell his friends the truth about his family before his father made an appearance. He buzzed his receptionist, told her to go home for the day, and asked her to dial Nora Tyler Bing for him. He needed to talk to someone.  
  
***  
  
Daniel knocked on the door of Apartment 19. There was no answer. Strange, he thought for sure someone would be around at 7:30 on a Tuesday night. He turned to leave, just as a pretty brunette opened the door across the hall.  
  
"Hi, can I help you with something?"  
  
"Maybe. Does uh, Chandler Bing live in that apartment?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. He isn't there?"  
  
"No. I, uh, I'm his father."  
  
"Oh! Wow, you are Chandler's father? Well, come on in, you can wait for him here if you want. I'm Rachel, one of Chandler's best friends."  
  
"Pleased to meet you Rachel."  
  
"MONICA!" Rachel yelled, causing Daniel to jump.  
  
"What?" A pretty dark-haired woman came out of one of the bedrooms. Daniel was mesmerized. She was more than pretty. She was gorgeous.  
  
"Monica, this is Chandler's DAD!" Rachel said excitedly.  
  
"Wow. Hi, um, I'm Monica, Chandler's girlfriend."  
  
"His girlfriend? Wow," Daniel smiled, all the while thinking that his son was a very lucky man.  
  
"So, I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you really don't look like someone who dances in a gay burlesque show," Rachel said.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" Daniel asked, taken aback.  
  
"Well, I just...you seem a little too, uh, manly for a drag queen."  
  
"Chandler told you I was a drag queen?"  
  
"Oh my God, you're *not* a drag queen?"  
  
"No," Daniel had to fight to control his temper. What the hell was Chandler thinking?  
  
"I am SO sorry!" Rachel's face turned beet red.  
  
"No, hey, it's not your fault."  
  
***  
  
Two hours later, Ross, Joey and Phoebe had shown up, each of them mistaking Daniel for a drag queen. It was almost ten, and still there was no sign of Chandler. Daniel decided that he had better leave, and Monica, feeling guilty for Chandler's absence, and the fact that he had told all of them that his father was a drag queen, took it upon herself to invite Daniel over for Christmas dinner. He said he'd be delighted, then excused himself and left. Chandler didn't show up for another hour. When he did finally arrive, his friends looked at him like he had run over the family dog.  
  
"What?" he said, plopping down next to Monica on the sofa. She moved away from him, annoyed.  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
"At work."  
  
"Bullshit. Where were you?"  
  
"At work! Monica, what the hell is your problem?"  
  
"Your father was here."  
  
Monica's words hit Chandler like a brick. He had been here. He had talked to his friends. They now undoubtedly knew that his father was not a cross-dressing Vegas entertainer. He wondered how much they knew.  
  
"How much did he tell you?"  
  
"Everything. And frankly, Chandler, I can't believe you would just abandon your father like that."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah, Chandler, it's not like what he did was unforgivable," Joey added.  
  
"You couldn't find it in your heart to visit him in prison just once?" Phoebe asked.  
  
Chandler felt like he was in an alternate universe. His friends were siding with his father? How could this be happening? He was no longer listening to his friend's criticism of his behaviour. Once again, he felt his stomach churn, and his eyes sting. He felt like was sitting in quicksand, sinking into oblivion, with no one to help set him free. Images from his childhood flashed before his eyes, and he felt the room closing in on him. The voices of his friends were now nothing more than a distant buzzing. He stood abruptly, and wandered aimlessly to the kitchen. The buzzing in his ears turned into a high-pitched ringing. He felt himself breaking down. He felt the tears falling down his face, and he felt his body trembling. But he felt no emotion. His mind was blank, and he could not see the people standing before him. He needed to know that he was still here, that he still existed. He felt the nothingness consume him, but his desperation to hold on to reality took hold, and he let out a horrible, ear-piercing scream, before sinking into total darkness. 


	2. The Confrontation

Just in case you missed it the first time. This is a Drama/Angst fic. ;-)  
  
This one jumps around a bit. I put "Present Day", but I suppose technially it would be, like 1997 or so. Whatever, my timelines are not nearly as wacked out as the real writer's timeline. (Shouldn't Rachel be, like, 8 months pregnant? LOL)  
  
********************  
  
The Sins of The Father  
  
Chapter Two~The Confrontation  
  
~October, 1977~  
  
It was an unusually cold night. The wind whipped through the streets like a howling wolf on the prowl. Chandler could hear the shutters pounding against the windows, banging against the glass like an unwelcome intruder. He opened his eyes, and looked over at his brother's bed. Jonah was fast asleep, completely oblivious to the chaotic storm. Chandler closed his eyes, and tried to block out the sounds of the night. He heard the front door slam, and wondered if the storm had made it's way inside. The screaming and banging lasted for an hour. Chandler could hear the fight above the winds, and the banging shutters, and the pounding rain. The screaming stopped as quickly as it had started. Chandler heard the ominous and inevitable sound of footsteps in the hallway. He pulled his blanket tight over his shoulders, and pretended to be asleep. Maybe it would work this time.  
  
But it never did.  
  
*  
  
~Where we left off~  
  
"Chandler? Oh my God, Chandler?" Monica had watched in horror as Chandler had gone into a strange trance, then screamed and passed out onto her kitchen floor. "Chandler?"  
  
"Maybe we should call an ambulance," Rachel suggested, her voice shaky and soft.  
  
But Monica wasn't listening. She was completely focused on Chandler, shaking him, and calling out his name over and over. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Chandler came to.  
  
"What happened?" he whispered.  
  
"Honey, I don't know. You kind of freaked out, and then you just...fainted."  
  
Chandler layed his head back down on the floor, his eyes moving back and forth, as he tried to recall the evening's events. He was at work...he came home...his father. He had been here, and his friends--Chandler felt his heart beating rapidly, as he felt the panic from before rising again. He took several deep breaths, and pulled himself up off of the floor. He leaned against the front door, his eyes searching the floor for an answer. Monica's voice brought him out of his haze.  
  
"Chandler, what's wrong? What happened?"  
  
She sounded scared. Her voice was small, like a child's voice. Chandler closed his eyes, and tried desperately to think logically. His father had obviously lied to his friends. There was no way they would have known. Chandler looked up at Monica, and the group of terrified friends that stood behind her.  
  
"What did he tell you?"  
  
Before anyone could answer, there was a soft knock on the door. Chandler turned slowly, and peered through the small hole in the door. He felt his body trembling, and he had to remind himself that he wasn't a child anymore. He closed his eyes, and layed his hand on the doorknob. His wrist refused to turn. There was another knock, and Chandler opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door.  
  
*  
  
~1977~  
  
Chandler stood in front of the school, waiting for Jonah to appear. He wondered what Jonah's day had been like. Chandler hadn't slept at all the night before, and had found it difficult to stay awake in class. He leaned against a towering oak tree, and let his mind wander. He wondered if all of these kids had a family like his. He knew that they didn't, because they were laughing, smiling, and playing. Chandler spent most of his recesses sitting on a wooden bench, in the shadows of the school. He had no friends, because most everyone in the school thought he was weird. He *was* weird, at least that's what his father kept telling him. And if you hear something enough, you begin to believe it.  
  
"Chanwer, whath's wong?" Jonah looked up at his older brother, and saw that he was crying.  
  
"Hey, Jonah. Nothing, I'm just sleepy. You ready to go?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Okay, let's go." Chandler took his brother's tiny hand, and walked toward their house.   
  
*  
  
~Present day~  
  
"Hi, Nora," Chandler whispered, letting her into the apartment.  
  
"He was here, wasn't he?" Nora said, as she walked in and silently greeted the others.  
  
"I haven't seen him yet. I was at work when he came by."  
  
"You look awful, Chandler."  
  
"Thanks," Chandler replied sarcastically.  
  
"What did he say when he was here?"  
  
"I don't know. I was about to find out," Chandler looked at his friends quizzically.  
  
"Chandler had told us that your ex-husband was a drag queen, but--" Joey started.  
  
"That bastard was never my husband," Nora spat, and took off her coat. "What else did he say?"  
  
"That, uh, he was jailed for tax evasion, and his family had disowned him." Ross said, still confused by Nora's last statement. What did she mean by that? They were never married? What else had Chandler lied about?  
  
"Tax evasion? Are you kidding me?" Nora laughed bitterly.  
  
Chandler sank into a kitchen chair, now understanding why his friends were acting the way they were.  
  
"I take it he was lying," Monica stated, as she looked at Chandler sadly.  
  
"That's an understatement," Nora sighed, and turned to Chandler. "You haven't told them anything, have you?"  
  
"You know I haven't, Nora."  
  
"Told us what?" Joey looked from Nora to Chandler.  
  
"It's not my place to say anything," Nora sighed, and sat in a chair next to her nephew.  
  
*  
  
~1977~  
  
"Where the hell have you two been?" Daniel glared at his sons menacingly.  
  
"We were at school," Chandler said, pushing Jonah behind him protectively.  
  
"Daniel, please leave the boys alone," Chandler looked over at his mother. She was sitting in the corner of the room, her eyes swollen from crying, and her hair and clothes a matted mess.  
  
"Bitch, no one is talking to you, so sit there, and shut up!" Daniel yelled, before turning his attention back to his boys.  
"School let out an hour ago, now where the fuck were you?"  
  
"We were at school, I swear!" Chandler said.  
  
"We were at school!" Daniel mimicked harshly. "You are such an idiot. Get up to your room. I don't want to see or hear from you for the rest of the night."  
  
"But we're hungry!" Chandler replied, knowing that Jonah was probably starved, but wouldn't say anything himself.  
  
"Oh, well that's just too God-damned bad! Go to your room, Jonah!" Daniel yelled, as he pulled Chandler away from his brother.  
  
"Chanwer!"  
  
"Jonah, go!" Chandler ordered. Jonah turned and ran down the hallway, toward his bedroom. He turned and looked down toward the living room, just as Chandler looked up at him. As their eyes locked, Jonah wondered what Chandler had done that was so bad.   
  
***  
  
~Present Day~  
  
There was another knock at the door, and Chandler had a sinking feeling that he knew who it was. Monica opened the door, and was unsure how to greet the man on the other side.  
  
"Hi, Monica, sorry to bother you, but I saw your light on, and I think I left my scarf here."  
  
"Oh, uh, okay, let me get it," Monica walked into the living room, and shot Chandler an apologetic glance.  
  
Daniel walked through the front door, and was surprised to see Nora and Chandler sitting at the kitchen table.  
  
"Nora. Chandler, son, how are you?" Daniel approached the table, and Chandler jumped from his chair, and backed up toward the kitchen sink. "Chandler, please."  
  
"Stay away from him, Daniel," Nora warned, stepping between father and son.  
  
"Nora, please, I want you to see that I have changed. I'm not the same person I was twenty years ago. I just want to get to know my son. Please." Daniel looked at Chandler pleadingly.  
  
"Fine, you want to get to know me? Then you tell my friends why you were really in prison. You tell them the truth."  
Chandler was shaking, he could feel it. But he had to face him, he had to face his fears. He wondered how his father would react to his demand for the truth. He wondered just how much he'd changed.  
  
***  
  
Okay, I guess I'd better go work on those other fics, before I get into trouble, heehee. 


	3. The Past

Okay, so it has been pointed out to me that Chandler & Monica weren't dating in 1997. But let's just pretend they were, okay? LOL.   
  
This one is actually darker than the other ones, if you can believe that. Strong violence warning.  
  
**********************  
  
The Sins of The Father  
  
Chapter Three~The Past  
  
  
~Thanksgiving, 1977~  
  
The fight was bad--worse than usual. Chandler couldn't remember what had started it. All he could do was watch, as his father threw Thanksgiving food and dishes at his mother. Jonah was under the table, crying. As the screaming grew louder, Jonah's wails became louder, and more desperate. The noise only pissed their father off more. He turned his attention away from his wife, and glared at Chandler.  
  
"Shut your fucking brother up, or face the consequences," he seethed.  
  
Chandler scooted under the table, and wrapped his skinny arms around his crying brother.  
  
"C'mon, Jonah, you gotta stop crying," Chandler whispered, but to no avail. Jonah continued to whimper loudly. "Jonah, Pleeease! Dad's really mad!"  
  
Before Chandler knew what was happening, the table that was protecting him and Jonah was tipped over, and their father was standing over them, his face red from yelling.  
  
"I told you to shut him up! What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
Chandler looked at the floor, too afraid to look up, too afraid to speak.  
  
"Answer me, you little shit!"  
  
"He's scared!" Chandler yelled, louder than he should have. His father yanked Jonah away from him.  
  
"I'll give you something to be scared of," he growled, kicking Jonah across the room. Chandler yelled out, as Jonah hit the wall of the dining room. He looked up at his father, tears lining his eyes. "I hate you!" he yelled bravely.  
  
Daniel turned and looked at Chandler, shocked by his audacity. He smirked, his drugged-up eyes boring a hole into Chandler's soul. He then uttered the four words that would stick with Chandler for the rest of his life.  
"I hate you too." Daniel kicked Chandler in the face, just as his wife was coming to.  
  
"No! Leave them alone!" she screamed, and Daniel had had enough. He kicked Chandler again, and staggered over toward his wife. Chandler faded in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the all too familiar sound of his father beating his mother again.  
  
*  
  
Chandler opened his eyes, and saw the ceiling above him spinning. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his chest hurt. He struggled to sit up, and when he did, he saw that he was in the middle of the dining room. An untouched turkey lay askew on the floor next to him. His father was passed out in the corner of the living room. Jonah was on one side of the dining room, and his mother was on the other.  
  
"Mom?" Chandler whispered, hoping that he wouldn't wake his father. He dragged his scrawny, broken body over to his mother, hoping to convince her that they needed to leave. They needed to get away from *him*. His mother was hunched in a corner, unconscious. Chandler shook his mother, like he always did after a beating. Usually she would awaken, and wrap her bruised arms around Chandler, and tell him it would be okay. Chandler needed her to do that, right now. He shook her again. "Mom, please. Mom!"   
She didn't move, she didn't wake up. Chandler felt panic and fear course through his veins. He crawled over to Jonah, pulling him from the mashed potatoes that he'd landed in when he'd hit the floor.  
  
"Jonah, Mom won't wake up, we gotta go get Mrs. Harper--" Chandler looked at his baby brother, his eyes wide in horror. Jonah's little blue eyes were open, his face was purple, and his body cold. "Jonah!" Chandler cried. He heard his father stir. Chandler pulled himself up, and ran across the street to find Mrs. Harper.  
  
*  
  
Olanda Harper was a sixty-year old retired teacher from New Orleans. She spoke with a Cajun drawl, and was always cooking something that, according to Chandler, stunk. She had made it a habit to take in Chandler and Jonah when things got particularly bad between the Bing's. That night she was cooking a Cajun-style Thanksgiving dinner for her four children and ten grandchildren when she heard someone pounding on her front door. She heard her eldest daughter answer the door, then heard her yell into the kitchen.  
  
"Mama, you'd better get in here. There's a little boy at your door."  
  
Olanda knew immediately that it was little Chandler Bing. She ran to the front door, and gasped. His face was swollen, his mouth bleeding. Her heart broke, knowing that he was worse than he looked. This time, she thought to herself, Daniel Bing had gone too far.  
  
"Rebecca, call the police," Olanda said quietly, as she approached Chandler. "Chandler, sweetheart, where's Jonah?"  
  
"He's all purple Mrs. Harper. He won't move. And my Mom won't wake up to help me."  
  
Olanda fought back her tears of sorrow and rage. She led Chandler into the living room, and instructed her other two daughters to get him some food, and keep a close eye on him. She watched for a second as the scared little boy was wrapped in a blanket and looked at by her son James, a resident at Johns Hopkins.  
Olanda shook her head sadly, and made her way across the street. The Bing house was dark, and eerily quiet. She looked around at the chaotic mess. This wasn't the first time Olanda had called the police on Daniel Bing. But it had never been this bad, and the cops were never able to make the charges stick, because Mrs. Bing refused to press charges. Olanda walked over to Jonah, and saw that he was, indeed, dead. Olanda closed her eyes, and said a short prayer for the little boy, before making her way over to his mother.  
  
"Caroline?" Olanda shook Caroline Bing, and was happy that she had at least stirred. But her eyes hadn't opened, and Olanda knew that she needed medical attention. She picked up the phone, and called her house.  
  
"Rebecca, can you send James over here when he finishes with Chandler? Caroline needs help."  
  
***  
  
Nora Tyler Bing sat next to her husband Charles, listening to the social worker as she explained the situation. Charles was having a hard time believing that his brother was capable of such horrendous acts.   
  
"You will become Chandler's legal guardians, until it can be determined that Caroline Bing is capable of caring for him herself," the social worker explained plainly.  
  
Nora looked at Charles, and realized that their divorce was going to have to wait a bit. Chandler needed a stable environment, and Nora was determined to give him one, no matter what.  
  
***  
  
"Caroline? There are some people here to see you," the nurse lightly placed her hand on her patient's shoulder.  
  
Caroline did not respond. She couldn't. Her brain had totally shut down, a defense mechanism to deal with the horrible events of a month ago. Her physical injuries were healing quickly, but mentally, Caroline was still in a state of shock. She continued to stare out the window of her stark white room, oblivious to the fact that her brother and sister-in-law were standing next to her.  
  
"Caroline, please come back to us," Nora whispered. "Chandler needs you. He is so quiet and distant. He asks about you every day. Please Caroline, come back for him." Nora sat back, concern written on her face.  
  
"She's not getting any better, is she?" Charles said sadly.  
  
"No," Nora said quietly.  
  
***  
  
Daniel Bing was convicted of Manslaughter for the death of his son Jonah, and sentenced to forty years, with the possibility of parole in twenty. The convictioned sickened Charles, who went to the trial alone, while Nora watched Chandler. He didn't want his nephew anywhere near his brother. Charles relayed the information to Nora, who was also floored by the short sentence.  
  
"They worked out some kind of deal, apparently," Charles said.  
  
"So Daniel could be out in twenty years?"  
  
"Yeah. Chandler will be, what, 28 by then?"  
  
"Yeah, well maybe the bastard will die before then."  
  
"Nora--"  
  
"What? He killed his own son, Charles. He nearly killed his other one. I know he's your brother but--"  
  
"I know, Nora. You're right. He should rot in Hell."  
  
"Aunt Nora?" Nora turned, startled by Chandler's quiet appearance.  
  
"Chandler, sweetheart, are you okay?" She hoped he hadn't heard their conversation.  
  
"I had a bad dream."  
  
"Oh, honey, come here," Nora wrapped her arms around Chandler, and felt him tremble, and eventually cry onto her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and cryed with him.  
  
***  
  
~1982~  
  
"Aunt Nora!" Chandler bounded up the steps to his house, and ran through the front door.  
  
"What? What is it Chandler?" Nora looked at Chandler, concern lining her eyes.  
  
"I got on the team!" Chandler said excitedly.  
  
"Oh, honey that's great!' Nora sighed with relief. She wasn't sure what to expect when she heard her nephew screaming. "Um, what team, honey?"  
  
"The tennis team! Duh!" Chandler sighed in frusteration.  
  
"Oh! Of course, I'm sorry sweetheart, it's just you keep joining all these clubs and teams, and I get them all mixed up!" Nora looked at her nephew apoligetically.  
  
"Whatever," Chandler laughed, and bouded up the stairs to his room.  
  
Nora sighed. She was amazed at how well Chandler had bouced back from all that had happened. Aside from the occasional nightmare and strange outburst now and then, Chandler was an average thirteen year old. Nora smiled to herself, hoping that he would really be okay. The phone rang, and Nora went to answer it.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"I'm looking for Nora or Charles Bing?"  
  
"This is Nora Bing, can I help you?"  
  
"This is Dr. Johansen from Bellevue Medical Centre. I'm afraid I have some bad news."  
  
*  
  
"Nora, what happened, where's Chandler?" Charles came rushing home, after receiving a frantic message from Nora.   
  
"He's upstairs, taking a nap. Charles, I got a call from Bellevue."  
  
"What's happened?"  
  
"Caroline killed herself," Nora said quietly, a look of saddened defeat in her eyes.  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
"Chandler is doing so well. And this is going to hurt him so much," Nora sobbed.  
  
"We should tell him now," Charles said quietly.  
  
"Tell me what?" Chandler wandered into the kitchen, and grabbed an apple from the counter. "Aunt Nora, what's wrong?"  
  
"Chandler, sit down sweetie," Nora sniffled.  
  
"It's my Mom, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
Chandler blinked, and tried to prepare himself for the news. As Nora explained what happened, Chandler felt himself slipping away from reality. He felt himself being engulfed by the darkness again.  
  
***  
  
~1988~  
  
Chandler layed on his bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling. It was his first time away from Nora and Charles since he was taken in by them, and deep down, he was scared. As much as he wanted to be out on his own, he felt a little hesitant about leaving the security of Nora and Charles' home. Suddenly, his dorm room opened, and a skinny, curly-haired kid fumbled in.  
  
"Hey, need some help?" Chandler smiled and stood up.  
  
"Yeah, thanks."  
  
Chandler took a box from the kid, and set it down on the pressed wood desk. "I'm Chandler Bing."  
  
"Ross Geller."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Ross."  
  
*** 


	4. The Present, The Future, and Everything ...

The Sins of The Father  
  
~Chapter Four--The Present, The Future, and Everything in Between~  
  
~Present Day~  
  
"Chandler, I really think we need to talk," Daniel looked pleadingly at his son, who glared at him with contempt.  
  
"Tell my friends the truth," Chandler replied stubbornly.  
  
"Fine," Daniel relented, and turned to the group of near-strangers standing in the living room, "I was jailed for manslaughter, okay?"  
  
"Manslaughter?" Ross repeated, his eyes widening in shock.  
  
"What...how did--uh, who did you?" Rachel stammered, unconsciously backing away toward Ross.  
  
"Chandler, I really don't think I should be the one to do this," Daniel started.  
  
"Look, Daniel, I think it might be best if you go," Nora interrupted, seeing that Chandler was on the verge of another panic attack.  
  
"Yeah, okay. I just--I know you hate me Chandler, but--"  
  
"Yes, I do," Chandler said, as he tried to control the involuntary trembling in his body and voice.  
  
"I really have changed. I'm not on those drugs anymore. And I just want to get to know you." With that, Daniel left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
As soon as Daniel left, Nora turned back to Chandler. "Are you okay?" She asked softly. She could see that he wasn't. His eyes were lined with tears, and he was sweating. "Chandler, sit down, honey."  
  
Chandler wanted to stay in control, and he had done well in the presence of his father. But now that he was gone, Chandler could feel all of his anxieties coming back. The loss of control scared him to death.  
  
"Chandler, look at me," Nora instructed sternly. Chandler looked at Nora, panic lining his eyes. "Breathe."  
  
Chandler took several deep shaky breaths, but to no avail. His brain was already shutting down on him.  
He grasped Nora's hand, knowing that she was fully aware of what he needed. She had sat with him through these attacks before. The attacks had started after his mother's suicide. The suicide had brought back all that had happened to him as a young child, and it had taken him much longer to recover. In the end, he had repressed most of the memories, and made an attempt at a normal life again.   
Chandler had managed to live without the memories haunting him, until Monica had told him she was pregnant. But even then, he'd managed to stay in control. It wasn't until his father's visit that the images that he had fought for so long to extinguish came back to him. And now, just like they had when he was thirteen, the memories overwhelmed him, took him over, and drowned him in sorrow and fear.  
  
"Ross, Joey, help me get Chandler to his room," Nora said quietly. Ross and Joey snapped to attention, half-carrying a now catatonic Chandler toward the door.  
  
"Maybe we should put him in my room," Monica suggested, "So that he can be close by." Monica was afraid to even let Chandler out of her sight. She had never seen him like this, and it scared her. She wanted to take him far away from all of this, and tell him that everything would be okay. But she knew she couldn't.   
  
"Good idea," Nora said, and guided the men toward Monica's room.  
  
Phoebe and Rachel led Monica to the sofa, and sat her down. Once she was on the sofa, Monica completely broke down. Nora, Ross and Joey emerged from the bedroom a few minuted later, and Nora sat next to Monica, assuring her that Chandler would be okay.  
  
"This has happened before, Monica. He'll be okay."  
  
"He looked so...I've never seen him this way."  
  
"He has repressed his memories for so long, but I kind of knew that this would happen if Daniel returned." Nora looked at Monica, and placed an arm around her. "You really love him, don't you?"  
  
Monica nodded, "Yes, I do."  
  
"Nora, who did Daniel kill?" Ross asked, as the others took a seat.  
  
"He killed Chandler's little brother, and he nearly killed Chandler."  
  
"Chandler had a brother?" Monica looked at Nora, shocked.  
  
"I know that Chandler has told you that Charles and I are his family And I know that you want to know what's really going on. Let me start by telling you that I am not actually Chandler's mother," Nora watched the five friends carefully, not wanting to overwhelm them with information too quickly.  
  
"You're not his mother? Then why--"  
  
"My ex-husband Charles is Daniel's older brother. After the incident, we took Chandler in, and became his legal guardians."  
  
"What about Chandler's mom?" Phoebe asked curiously.  
  
"I think I'd better explain what happened on Thanksgiving first," Nora said slowly.  
  
***  
  
Chandler opened his eyes, and tried to focus on his surroundings. He was in Monica's room. How did he get here? And where was Monica? He sat up, and his head felt woozy. He shook his head, and stood up slowly. That was when he heard voices coming from the other room. He could hear Phoebe, and...Nora. He assumed that everyone was still out there. Chandler stood at the door for a minute, trying to decypher the conversation he was hearing through the door.  
  
"I can't believe that we never knew any of this," he could hear Rachel say.  
  
"He didn't want you to know. It's very painful for him," Nora replied.  
  
"Well, it certainly explains his aversion to Thanksgiving food," Ross said.  
  
The group fell silent, and Chandler took the opportunity to open the door, and walk out of the bedroom.  
  
"Chandler, are you okay?" Nora approached Chandler, and guided him to the sofa.  
  
"Yeah, I'm just sleepy. I'd forgotten how much these attacks take out of me."  
  
Monica took Chandler's hand, and placed her head on his chest. He put his arm around her, and she began to cry into his chest.  
  
"Mon, it's okay. I'm okay, really," he whispered.  
  
Chandler looked around the room at his friends, and could see that they looked sad and frightened. He Chandler looked over at Nora, who was now sitting on the coffee table. "How much did you tell them?"  
  
"I only told them about Thankgiving," she said quietly.  
  
Chandler nodded, and pulled Monica closer. "I haven't thought about that day for a long time," he whispered.  
  
"Chandler, why didn't you tell us before?" Ross asked softly.  
  
"I didn't want to think about it. By the time I met you, Ross, I had mastered the art of repressing my memories. But every once in a while, the memories come back to me, and an attack seems to follow.It has only happened once since high school...well once before today."  
  
Ross thought for a minute, before saying, "Oh, God, was that the time you disappeared for like, a week?"  
  
"Yeah," Chandler nodded.  
  
"Where did you go?"  
  
*  
  
~1990~  
  
Chandler woke up suddenly, relieved to find that he was in his dorm room, and had been dreaming. The memory of the nightmare began to vanish quickly, but the dream had triggered old, very real memories. Chandler felt his hands begin to tremble, and his heart began to thump in his ears, drowning out the buzzing of Ross' stupid air purifier. Chandler looked over at Ross, who was sleeping soundly. He pulled himself out of bed, and grabbed his blanket. He was able to make it out to the hallway before the trembling got really bad. He blacked out for a short time, but came to before Ross woke up. A few people had passed him in the hallway, but, seeing that he was pale and shaky, they simply assumed that he was hung over, and let him be. Chandler stood up, and made his way to the roof of the building.  
He sat up there for several hours, wondering if the attack was the first of many to come. He couldn't stay here, he didn't want Ross to know. He and Ross had become quite close over the past few years, and Ross had even invited him over for Thanksgiving once. But Chandler knew that he wasn't ready to deal with that, so he'd made up an excuse, saying that his Mom had called, and wanted to see him over the holiday. Ross had also invited him over the following year, and was met with a similar excuse. Chandler sighed heavily, walked back to his dorm room, and was relieved to see that Ross was not there. Chandler figured that he'd be with Carol for the rest of the night, so Chandler called Nora, showered, changed, and packed a bag, still unsure about whether or not he'd be able to return.  
  
~Present Day~  
  
"Geez, I had no idea," Ross said quietly. The room fell quiet for several minutes, as each of Chandler's friends tried to absorb all of what they had heard. They found it hard to believe that their funny, lovable, charming friend had such a dark past. They couldn't imagine it getting any worse.   
  
"So, what happened to your Mom?" Phoebe realized that her original question to Nora had been left unanswered.  
  
"My Mom killed herself when I was thirteen," Chandler said quietly.  
  
"Oh, my God!" Phoebe said, closing her eyes. She thought about all of the times she had mentioned her mother's suicide over the past few years. She now wondered how Chandler had taken some of her offbeat remarks on the subject. Her mother's suicide had been painful, there was no doubt about that. But she had obviously handled the repercussions of her mother's death quite differently.  
  
"She blamed herself for my brother's death, and for me being without my parents. She broke a picture frame and used the glass..." Chandler shook his head. After all these years, he still couldn't bring himself to talk about it.  
  
*  
  
~1982~  
  
Caroline stared at the picture of her two sons for several hours. She missed them, so much. The hospital wouldn't allow Chandler into the ward, so she had to talk with him on the phone. He always sounded so distant when she talked to him. He seemed to be adjusting well to life with Nora and Charles, but she knew that she had done irreparable harm to her relationship with him. She looked at Jonah, and wished that she would have taken the boys away before That Night. She sat in her chair, alone in her room, crying for the next few hours. At around four in the morning, she came to a terrifying conclusion; She was a horrible mother. What kind of mother let's her own son die? She dropped the photo on the ground accidentely, and gasped as the frame shattered into hundreds of pieces. She pulled the frame from the broken glass, and looked at it again. She placed the photo in her pocket, and started to clean up the glass. That was when the idea hit her. She grabbed the biggest shard of glass she could find, and sat down on her bed. She was ready for the pain to stop.  
  
*  
  
Nora bought Chandler a suit, a black suit with a little black clip-on tie. Chandler fidgeted with the tie throughout his mother's service. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. The voices of people he barely knew carried throughout the church, but Chandler didn't hear anything that anybody said. It was here that he had his first attack.  
He was thinking about his mother, and all of the things his father used to do to her. How he used to belittle her. He began to remember things that he had tried so hard to forget. He remembered the first time his father had hit him. Eventually, his mind wandered back to Thanksgiving. He began to shake, and didn't know what to do. All of the colour drained from his face, and he began to sweat. He was crying, but then, so was everyone in the church. He looked at Nora, terrified. She noticed this, and had Charles carry him out of the church, and to the hospital.  
  
*  
  
Chandler had several, smaller attacks for the next two years. As his mind slowly buried the memories, the attacks seemed to subside. By the time Chandler was in high school, he appeared to be fully recovered. He only had one other attack, during college, and that was when he left-mid semester, for a week. Chandler stayed with Nora, who had since divorced Charles so that he could move in with the housekeeper. In that week, Chandler told Nora that he had told his friends that she and Charles were his parents.   
  
*  
  
~Present Day~  
  
Everyone in the room, apart from Nora and Chandler, was crying. Most of the reaction was shock, and sadness. They now bore the burden of Chandler's deeply painful past. They all realized that Chandler was much stronger than he had ever let on. And they all wondered how Chandler would handle the re-appearance of his father.  
It seemed that Daniel really wanted to prove to Chandler that he had changed. They wondered if Chandler would ever let his father back into his life. They wondered if any of them would have even made it this far.  
  
*  
  
Monica and Chandler sat alone in Monica's apartment the next day. While Monica's mind was on the past, Chandler's was on the future. He looked at Monica, studying her face. She had been up most of the night, crying. Chandler felt awful. The last thing he wanted was for Monica to be hurt. But he had his own fears and reservations to deal with, and it was time to talk to Monica about them.  
  
"Mon?" Chandler said softly.  
  
"Yes," Monica looked at Chandler.  
  
"I uh, I still need to explain something to you. The reason I freaked out about the baby--"  
  
"Chandler I know you aren't ready," Monica interrupted.  
  
"No, it's not that," Chandler said softly. "I--I don't want to be a father-at all."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I can't. I am afraid that I'll become--"  
  
"Oh, God. Chandler, you are not him. You are nothing like him. You will be a great father!"  
  
"But what if I do something--I just--I don't know," Chandler buried his face in his hands.  
  
It was then that Monica realized what she needed to do. She had spent the past twenty-four hours crying over Chandler's past--but what she needed to do was focus on their future. She needed to be strong--strong for him. He didn't need her crying over what happened, he needed her to guide him. She took his hands from his face, and looked deep into his eyes.  
  
"I trust you, sweetheart. I trust you with everything that I am. All you have to do is trust yourself."  
  
Chandler smiled slightly, and pulled Monica into a long embrace. He still had doubts, but he felt better, knowing that Monica would be there, and that she loved him enough to see past all of his issues.  
  
He hoped that her love would last.  
  
*  
  
Over the next week, Daniel made a concerted effort to prove to Chandler that he had changed. Chandler resisted him, still very wary of his father. Inside he was torn. In spite of all that his father had done, he was still his father. Did he deserve a second chance? Less than two weeks after Daniel's initial visit, Chandler would get his answer.  
  
It was a Friday night. Monica was working late, Joey was on a date, and for the first time in a long time, Chandler found himself alone. He sat in his recliner revelling in the silence. Ever since his friends found out about his childhood, thay had been smothering him. He knew they meant well, and he knew that they didn't trust his father, who had been coming around occasionally to try and get himself back into Chandler's life. But Chandler couldn't help but to wonder if telling all of the the truth was a good thing. They treated him differently, and he didn't like it. He sighed, deciding that eventually, things would get back to normal. They just needed time to forget--the way he had, so many times before. Forget, and let it go. A sudden pounding on the front door startled Chandler out of his train of thought. He stood up, and opened the door.   
  
"What are you doing here," Chandler asked his father coldly.  
  
"Just let me in," Daniel pushed his way past Chandler, and walked into the apartment.  
  
Chandler cocked his head to the side. His father was acting very strange. Since his return, Daniel had been very meek and quiet, and overly kind to Chandler. Tonight he seemed aggitated, and very antsy.  
  
"What's going on?" Chandler asked warily, as his father wandered the room.  
  
"They are kicking me out of the hotel I'm staying at. Something about late payments," Daniel said, his eyes moving back and forth quickly.  
  
"Why didn't you call your parole officer?" Chandler asked, annoyed.  
  
"Because you are my fucking son!" Daniel yelled, slamming his hand on the counter as he spoke.  
  
Chandler jumped back, his eyes wide. He fought desperately to keep control, knowing that this time, his life may depend on it. "Are you drunk?" he asked, looking his father in the face.  
  
"No!" Daniel said harshly, though it was obvious that he was.  
  
Chandler walked to the door, and opened it. "Get out! Get out of my life!" it took all of the courage that Chandler could muster to say what he had to the man who had ruined the better part of his life. To Chandler's surprise, his father stalked toward the door. Chandler was relieved when he simply walked through it. Chandler sighed, and swung the door shut. But when the door wouldn't close all the way, Chandler closed his eyes, hoping that his father would just go away. He turned to see a foot in the door, and before he could react, the door swung back open, hitting Chandler square in the face. Chandler fell backwards, and tried to compose himself as his father walked back in, with the same look on his face he'd had on that horrible Thanksgiving night, all those years ago.  
  
"Your Aunt Nora has spoiled you. You have no manners anymore," Daniel seethed.  
  
Chandler tried to get around his father, but the foosball table got in his way. Daniel shut the front door, and locked every lock on the door. Chandler knew that Joey never carried a key. He had to keep it together, he had to try and think clearly. He lept for the phone, but his father reached him at the same time, and knocked the phone out of Chandler's hand.  
  
"I'm not a kid anymore, you son-of-a-bitch. I will fight back," Chandler warned, though the shakiness in his voice betrayed him.  
  
"Then fight," Daniel grinned.  
  
Chandler stood, frozen on place. He looked around the room, hoping that he could find something...anything to help him.   
  
*  
  
It was like the worst dream he'd ever had. Everything was moving in slow motion. Before he knew he what was happening, he was on the floor, and he was losing hope. How had it come to this? How could he ever believe that the monster he grew up with could ever change? Chandler pulled himself up, and staggered to the kitchen, trying desperately to reach the door, before his father reached him. He could feel his eyes swelling, and his ribs hurt. He tasted blood in his mouth, and mentally scolded himself for getting into this situation again. As his father apporached, Chandler noticed his iron skillet, sitting on the stove. He grabbed it, and swung it around blindly.  
  
Then, everything went black.  
  
****  
  
Joey shuffled up the steps to the apartment, humming absently. He really liked Gillian, and for the first time, he saw a future forming. He smiled, anxious to tell Chandler about his night. He tried opening the door, and was surprised to find it locked. He knocked loudly.  
  
"Chandler, open up!"  
  
When there was no answer, Joey walked into the girls' apartment. He found Monica in the kitchen making breakfast, and Rachel just waking up.  
  
"Hey, I was wondering where you were. Is Chandler coming?" Monica asked.  
  
"I was just about to ask you what was going on--the door is locked," Joey replied.  
  
"What door?"  
  
"The apartment door!"  
  
"Don't you have a key?"  
  
"It's never locked!"  
  
Monica felt her heart begin to thump rapidly. Why was the door locked? She called Treeger, telling him it was an emergency, then joined Joey in the hallway, as he pounded on the door.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Monica, Joey and Rachel had convinced Treeger to take the door off of it's hinges. As soon as they were able to slip through, the three friends made their way into the apartment.  
The first thing that Monica saw was a pool of blood on the floor next to the counter. Her heart lept, as she pictured the very worst. Joey followed Monica's gaze, and closed his eyes. This wasn't happening.  
They walked into the apartment, and saw the body. Monica let out a shaky breath, and Rachel ran out to call the police. The room was silent for a minute, and that was when Monica heard the whimpering. She tore her eyes away from Daniel, and scanned the apartment.  
  
"Chandler?" Monica called out. After what felt like an eternity, she found him in his bedroom, wrapped in three blankets, hugging his knees. He was rocking back and forth, mumbling. Monica's heart broke. Whatever had happened here last night, it had ended in the worst way. Chandler was bleeding and bruised, and not even remotely aware of Monica's presence. Daniel was dead, apparently from a blow to the head with the wrought iron skillet that lay next to him on the floor. Monica kneeled in front of Chandler, and took his clammy, shaky hands in hers.  
  
"I love you," she whispered over and over, her words falling on deaf ears.  
  
*  
  
Daniel was buried a week later, unceremoniously, with no one there to say good bye. Charges were never pressed against Chandler, as it was deemed to be purely self-defense. Chandler was treated for his physical injuries at Beth Israel Medical Center, and was then transferred to Bellevue to undergo Pshychiatric treatment. His friends were convinced that he would once again recover, and would be back to himself in a few months.  
  
  
  
~5 Months Later~  
  
"Hey sweetie," Monica walked in, and sat down next to Chandler. "I have some news. I went for another ultrasound today, and it looks like we're having a boy!" Monica smiled. "And, I was thinking--I mean, if it's okay with you, that is--I was thinking that we could name the baby Jonah."  
Monica took Chandler's hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. "I think your Mom would have liked that," she said quietly. She looked at Chandler sadly. "Chandler, please. Please come back to us. Please."  
Monica squeezed his hand once more, hoping that someday soon, he would squeeze back.  
  
  
I have a tale to tell  
Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well  
I was not ready for the fall  
Too blind to see the writing on the wall  
A man can tell a thousand lies  
I've learned my lesson well  
Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned  
'Til then, it will burn inside of me.  
  
I know where beauty lives  
I've seen it once  
I know the warmth she gives  
The light that you could never see  
It shines inside you can't take that from me  
A man can tell a thousand lies  
I've learned my lesson well  
Hope I live to tell the secrets I have learned  
'Til then, it will burn inside of me.  
The truth is never far behind  
You kept it hidden well  
If I live to tell the secret  
Will I ever have the chance again  
  
If I ran away  
I'd never have the strength to go very far  
How would they hear the beating of my heart  
Will it grow cold?  
The secret that I hide  
Will I grow old?  
How will they hear?  
When will they learn?  
How will they know?  
  
("Live To Tell" Madonna)  
  
~*~ 


	5. You Can't Hurt Me Now

The Sins of The Father, Conclusion  
"You Can't Hurt Me Now"  
  
  
"Push Monica!"  
  
Monica scrunched up her sweaty face and pushed again, screaming as another seering rush of pain shot through her body. As she opened her eyes, she heard the wonderful, beautiful sound of her son wailing. Tears of joy flowed down her face, as the doctor handed her the tiny baby.  
  
"Hi, Jonah," Monica whispered, as her coach/brother kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"I'm gonna go tell the gang that everything is okay," Ross said, and backed out of the room.  
  
Monica didn't respond, she simply stared at her son, her tears of joy melting into tears of sorrow and loneliness. "I wish your father was here to see you right now," she whispered sadly.  
  
*  
  
He was surrounded by darkness, absorbed in silence. He wasn't sure how he got here, but the protective cocoon made him feel warm, made him feel safe. But he also felt overwhelmingly alone. He reached out, trying to find the familiarity and safety of a warm hand or reassuring word. But he found nothing.  
  
He was alone.  
  
*  
  
"Wow, Mon, he is just beautiful!" Rachel cooed, as she and Phoebe doted over the newborn.  
  
"He looks just like--uh, er, you," Phoebe stammered.  
  
"No, he doesn't, he looks just like Chandler," Monica sighed. "It's okay, Pheebs."  
  
"He really does," Rachel said, looking at Monica sadly.  
  
In the months since the incident, Chandler's condition had not changed. While his eyes were often open, he was totally unaware of his surroundings. His doctor's called it a 'natural defense' to the trauma. But Monica found absolutely nothing natural about Chandler's state. Up until the day she went into labour, Monica spent every free moment with Chandler, talking to him as though she expected him to respond. When Monica wasn't there, Joey was. Of all of Chandler's friends, Joey was having the hardest time dealing with the situation. He wasn't going to auditions, he wasn't dating, and he was barely eating. Joey and Ross had become estranged a few months ago, when Ross had made a comment that it may have been better if Chandler had not survived. Ross hadn't meant it to sound bad, he just knew that everyone, including Chandler, was suffering in a torturous limbo. But Joey had taken the comment badly, and had practially ripped Ross' head off. The tensions had put everyone in a precarious position, especially Rachel, who was now dating Ross again. Monica felt the tension, but was too focussed on Chandler to let it get to her.   
  
"Mon, Joey wants to come in and see you, so he can get back to Bellevue," Pheobe said.  
  
"Oh. Okay," Monica smiled, trying to cover the pain she still felt in her heart. She was happy that someone would be with Chandler today. She hated the idea that he had to sit in that little room all alone.   
She hated that her love for him wasn't enough to bring him back to her. She hated that she was holding their son in her arms, and he had no idea. She closed her eyes, and felt guilt creep into her soul, as she wondered if Ross was right. If they had been able to mourn and move on, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much right now.  
  
***  
  
"Jonah, say hello to daddy," Monica held the two month old up so that he could see Chandler. "Chandler, he is getting to be more like you every day. The other day, he--" Monica stopped, jumping back when she saw Chandler's arm flinch. He had never done that before. At least, not in front of her. Apparently, Joey had seen him do it once, several months ago, but the doctor's simply attributed the flinch to a muscle spasm. Monica wasn't so sure. She took Chandler's hand in hers, and squeezed it tightly.   
"Come on, baby, come back to me," she whispered hoarsly. Chandler flinched again.  
"Chandler, honey, come on. Come back."  
  
*  
  
Chandler reached out again, wanting more than anything to find a way out of the darkness. The safety he felt was not worth the loneliness that accompanied it. He felt a warm hand on his. He felt the hand tighten, and then he heard it. He heard a voice. It sounded like an angel. He wanted to cry out, but his voice produced no sound. He tried to move, but his body refused him. He heard the voice again. Who was that? Where were they? Could they see him? He wanted to see, he wanted to yell, he wanted to--suddenly, the hand disappeared. He was alone again. He tried to reach out again, but he couldn't find the warm hand. He couldn't find the voice.  
  
*  
  
Monica tried talking to Chandler for an hour, but to no avail. She sighed, and let go of his hand, feeling defeated. She had to stop coming here. It wasn't good for Jonah, and it wasn't good for her. She shook her head, and let the tears fall down her cheeks. She hugged Jonah tightly, and sobbed softly, as the sun set, ending yet another day, and filling the room with the shadows of the night. Monica sniffled, then held her breath when she heard a soft moan. Was that Jonah? She looked up at Chandler. His eyes were still open, and unmoving. Monica cocked her head to the side, and wiped her face, then grabbed Chandler's hand once more.  
  
"Chandler?" Monica wanted to believe that it was him that had moaned, but she wasn't sure.  
  
*  
  
Chandler fought the urge to sink into oblivion with everything he had. Suddenly, he felt the darkness lift from his eyes, and he waited, as his eyes focussed. He was...in his apartment. He blinked, and saw his father. He was coming toward him, with that look on his face. The look Chandler knew all too well. The look of hatred, the look of a man who was high on drugs, and drunk from booze. The look of a man who was determined to kill him. Chandler wished he had never forced himself out of the darkness. He tried to run...he needed to get away. He looked down at his hands, and saw that he was holding a skillet--his only defense. He swung the skillet, and watched as is connected with his father's head. Then, he panicked.  
  
"Chandler?"   
  
Who was that? It wasn't his father. His eyes blurred again, then came back into focus. He was in a room. He had never seen this room before. Where was he? He needed help.  
  
Monica set Jonah down in a small bassinet she had placed in the corner of Chandler's room. She walked back over to Chandler, and took his hand again. He flinched again, his body contracted, and suddenly, and to Monica's amazement, he looked at her.  
  
"Chandler?"  
  
The look in his eyes told Monica that he was in pain, and not fully aware of her presence. Tears formed in his eyes, as he tried to focus on who she was.  
  
"Help me," was all he could croak out.  
  
***  
  
"How long have I been here?" Chandler asked quietly. He looked wearily at his friends, who had all raced down to the hospital after a frantic call from Monica. The doctor's had kept them out of the room for almost an hour, as they checked, and re-checked to see if Chandler was indeed, okay. Once they were let back in, they nearly attacked Chandler with hugs and greetings, leaving him both happy and exhausted.  
  
"A little over a year," Monica replied, as she wiped yet another tear from her eyes.  
  
"A year?" Chandler repeated, his face showing a mixture of sorrow and shock.  
  
"They told us you would never recover. But we refused to believe them," Joey grinned.  
  
"Recover from what?" Chandler asked curiously.  
  
Joey opened his mouth to speak, but Monica stopped him. She wondered what Chandler remembered, and, if he had in-fact repressed the memories yet again, she wondered if it was a good idea to tell him what happened. She turned back to Chandler, and took his hand.  
  
"Sweetie, I think it's important that you tell us what you remember first."  
  
Chandler thought for a moment, trying desperately to recall the last thing that he did before waking up here. He closed his eyes, and immediately, the images came to him. They hit him all at once, momentarily taking his breath from him. He recalled the first time his father beat him...the many times he was hit for no real reason...Thanksgiving...his mother's death...his father's return...and--  
  
"He attacked me. He was drunk...and, high on...something. He punched me, and I fell. He picked me up, and threw me into the entertainment unit, and the door broke, and then...then I felt him kick me, and I tripped him...and I tried to run, but I couldn't...and he was coming at me...and I hit him with...something. I hit him, and he fell...and...I kept hitting him...I couldn't stop, I was so angry. Then...I...everything just...it all happended so fast..." Chandler was crying, and so was everyone else. Monica hung her head. He remembered everything.  
  
"Chandler, it's okay, he can't hurt you anymore. He's dead," Monica only wanted to comfort him, to reassure him. But she looked into his shocked eyes, and saw that he was anything but reassured.  
  
"He's dead? How?"  
  
Monica looked down, unable to look Chandler in the eye. She felt horrible. Her shoulders shook, as she began to cry.  
  
"Oh my God. I killed him, didn't I?"  
  
Monica looked up, and sniffled loudly. "You were defending yourself Chandler. It was him or you."  
  
"And we are very happy that it was him," Phoebe added.  
  
"I killed him. My God, I've actually turned into that monster," Chandler closed his eyes, and sighed heavily.  
  
"No, you are nothing like him," Monica said, but had a feeling that Chandler wasn't listening.  
  
Monica didn't know what to tell him. She tried to find the right words, but she was interrupted by Jonah, who began to cry. She sighed and went to gather him from the bassinet she had placed him in. She walked the baby over to Chandler, and sat down so that he could see the baby.  
  
"Chandler, this is your son. Jonah." Monica whispered.  
  
Chandler looked at the tiny person with awe and fear. He looked just like...him. No, he looked like his baby brother. Chandler began to process what Monica just said to him.  
  
"You named him Jonah?"  
  
"That's okay, right?"  
  
Chandler nodded silently. He was at once the most beautiful, most terrifying thing he'd ever seen.  
  
"Would you like to hold him?" Monica asked tentetively.  
  
Chandler's eyes grew wide, and he thought about all that had happened. He shook his head furiously.  
  
"No, I-I can't. I can't."  
  
Monica's heart broke. She nodded, knowing that it was going to be a struggle for all of them. Somehow, she had to convince Chandler that he was nothing like his father, and that he would make and excellent father for Jonah. But she didn't want to push him. If he didn't want to be a father, she was not going to force him. Logically, she totally understood his conflict. But in her heart, she needed him to be there.  
  
***  
  
Monica awoke suddenly, and realized immediately that she was alone. She panicked, wondering if the past few months had been nothing but a dream. She heard someone shuffling around in the living room, and sighed with relief. She pulled herself out of bed, and walked out, only to find that the living room was empty. She went into Jonah's room, and smiled at the sight before her. Jonah was fast asleep in his crib, and Chandler was sitting next to him, staring at his sleeping form with wonderment. Chandler turned when he heard Monica enter the room.  
  
"Hey, sorry to wake you," he whispered.  
  
"You didn't. What are you doing?"  
  
"Just watching him. He's amazing," Chandler sighed.  
  
"He is," Monica smiled.  
  
"He looks so much like my brother," Chandler said sadly.  
  
"Really?" Monica was happy that Chandler was finally starting to open up. After his release from Bellevue almost four months ago, he had started the therapy that he had needed for so long. He was finding it easier to be around Jonah, without the fear that he would somehow hurt him. As a precaution, however, Chandler had sworn off alcohol, and Monica and the others helped by not drinking around him, and not keeping any wine or beer in the apartment that he and Monica now shared. Chandler's therapy had also helped him deal with his painful childhood. He had made some remarkable steps forward in the past month alone. Two weeks ago, he went to his father's grave, as a part of his therapy, and told him everything that he had always wanted to tell him. And he forgave him. Monica was surprised by the latter action, considering all of the pain that Daniel had caused. But Chandler had told her that, despite all that he had done, Daniel was still his father. Monica tried her best to understand that.  
  
"Do you want to see a photo of Jonah?" Chandler asked, his voice small, and almost child-like.  
  
Monica took Chandler's hand, and smiled warmly. "I would love to."  
  
Chandler led Monica back to their bedroom, and fumbled through a small box in the bottom of the closet. He pulled out a smaller box, and opened it up, pulling out a stack of yellowing photographs. He flipped through a few photos, and found the one he had been looking for. It was the photo that his mother had had in her pocket the day she killed herself. Chandler handed Monica the tattered photo of him and Jonah carefully.   
  
"That's him on the left," Chandler pointed out.  
  
"Wow, baby Jonah really does look like him," Monica said quietly.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What are these other photos?" Monica asked.  
  
"Oh, um," Chandler handed Monica the photos, one-by-one, "This is my mother," Chandler smiled.  
  
"She's beautiful," Monica whispered.  
  
"Yeah. And, uh, this one is me and my Mom, and my, uh, Aunt Nora."  
  
Monica smiled, as Chandler shared the photos of his past with her. It was amazing how little she had known about her best friend. When they finished going throught the stack, Monica gathered and straightened the photos, then walked to her hope chest, and pulled out a small photo album.  
  
"Would you like to put them in here? It'll protect them better than that box."  
  
"Hmm, I'll let you do it for me. I know you're dying to," Chandler smiled.  
  
"You know me too well," Monica laughed, and took a seat on Chandler's lap. "Chandler?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you, for sharing this with me."  
  
"No, I should be thanking you. I would never had made it through this without you. You are my rock."  
  
"You are much stronger than you think you are, Chandler."  
  
"It's a strange feeling, putting this all behind me for good, knowing that he can't hurt me anymore."  
  
"I am in awe of you, I really am," Monica felt tears welling up in her eyes.  
  
"I love you. Always."  
  
"I love you, too. Always."  
  
Chandler held Monica in his arms, as they watched the sunrise, welcoming a brand new day.  
  
*****  
  
Epilogue  
  
  
~Five Years Later~  
  
"Jonah, let's go!" Monica grabbed her jacket, and pulled it on, as the five year old bounded down the stairs.  
  
"Mommy, I can't put this on!" Jonah held up his clip-on tie.  
  
"Give it to me, we'll put it on when we get there."  
  
"Honey, do you have the keys?" Chandler called down from the bedroom.  
  
"They are down here on the counter, where you left them."  
  
"Oh, right," Chandler came down the steps, carrying six-month old Caroline in his arms.  
  
"See, if you'd put them on the key rack like you are supposed to, you would never have to worry about it."  
  
"Watch yourself, Mrs. Bing," Chandler smiled, then planted a short kiss on his wife's lips before grabbing the keys off of the counter. "Let's go, we're gonna be late," he said.  
  
"It's a good thing Joey is Ross' best man. You woulda never made it to the church in time," Monica joked.  
  
"Ha ha, very funny. Need I point out to you that Phoebe is Rachel's maid-of-honour?"  
  
"Oh, shut up," Monica pouted. "It's your fault, you just *had* to buy a house three hours away from the city!"  
  
Chandler laughed and shuffled his family out the door. He knew better than to argue with his wife. He never won. But that was okay. He had everything he ever wanted, so losing an argument now and then was a non-issue. His dark past was now behind him, and his future, the one he now shared with a loving wife and two beautiful children, never looked brighter. 


End file.
